


Earth : Underside

by Bryoche



Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Action & Romance, Adrenaline, Battle, Comfort, F/M, Happy Ending, Mass Effect 3, Masturbation, Post-Mass Effect 3, Roughness, Tenderness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-25
Updated: 2018-04-25
Packaged: 2019-04-27 21:02:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14434023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bryoche/pseuds/Bryoche
Summary: A short action & lewd story set during the Reaper War, on Earth. As a human soldier and a quarian engineer make a mad dash to the safety of the underground tunnels, adrenaline, fear of death and a longing for warmth will soon unite them closer together.The first major fanfic I wrote, dating back from early 2017.Originaly posted on the Mass Effect General of 4chan, not yet published on FF.net.





	1. The Depths

**Author's Note:**

> Hello !  
> This particular story was the first major fanfic I ever wrote. It was written in early 2017 and as such may not be up-to-par with my most recent work. Nonetheless, I hope you will reading it.  
> Please remember that english is not my mother's tongue, so expect a few mistakes here and there.

**Human Soldier / Quarian Engineer**

**by Brioche/Bryoche**

**Earth**

**Part I : The Depths**

 

The butt of his rifle hit the horrific turian head a first time, making the creature cry out in a synthetic wail. Rising his rifle again, he felt a sharp pain on his side as the Reaperized turian stabbed him with a hidden blade. Another blow, and the turian bony plates cracked in a hollow sound. He knocked a last time and his rifle broke through the bone to hit something fleshy and wet. The lightbulbs that passed as the creature's eyes slowly died out as he broke away from the Marauder's grip.

A dozen of pistol round rang behind him. The Quarian girl was hopping away on her bent leg while shooting at zombies. Quickly, a couple of round from his own weapons tore the monsters' body to bits. Her head turned his way, the lights under her visor flashing rapidly as she ordered him to get moving. « The Kodiak was shot down, we need to find somewhere to hide ! » she said. « We can loose them if we reach the tunnels ! Hurry ! »

More were coming their way, and the two of them was what was left of the team sent to recon an industrial complex north of Hong-Kong. The two of them ran madly, chased by the Devil itself. They dove through the ruins of giant buildings that once where dwellings or markets. In their mad race to reach the earth resistance's networked tunnel, they came across the charred bodies of other Alliance teams, unlucky enought to cross a patrolling Dreadnought. Her little automated drone covered their reckless escape. Through her omnitech, she froze doors and locks behind them, and soon enought the Reaper forces mechanized grunts and blares waned.

They kept running even when they were inside the tunnels. His helmet got hit by a stray shot and the infrared optics were fried, leaving him rushing blindly in the dark. After crashing hard on a concrete wall, the quarian turned around, called him a « Bosh'tet » and lighted up her Omnitech. Like a moth to a flame, he followed the orange glow that was dancing in front off him, occasionally obscured by the Quarian own lithe body. He tripped, he fell and he probably would have sprained a muscle if not for his heavy armor. But after what felt like two hours of running around pitch black tunnel the Quarian's legs finally gave out, making her trip just in front off him. Almost crushing her in his momentum, he stopped and picked her up in his arms. His armor was still pumping a cocktail of adrenaline into his bloodstream. « There's a door on your right, leads to a staff room according to the map. » she said. « Looks like we reached the Hongshu metro network. Let's stop here, we'll try to contact the chinese resistance later. » he responded.

He entered the room, carrying the quarian in his arms, and let her guide him to where was « apparently » a ruined couch. He could feel her breathing hard and fast, her glowing eyes shining through the darkness behind her visor, her gaze concentrating on her Omnitech as she was encrypting their radio signal. Finally, he let her stand up and fumbled around in the dark, cursing his helmet faulty optics as he felt around to find a wall in the dark. Finding it, he let himself fall down, finally taking the time to breathe deeply. The quarian girl, for her part, found somewhere to lay down on the couch.

Time passed. His body was shaking from coming down from the combat drugs. He was exhausted and scared. Reapers could find them and finish the job any time. He counted how many thermal clip were left for the ninth time, cursing about his lack of luck and functionning optics. From time to time he glanced towards the Quarian, still typing on her glowing Omnitech. He met her glowing white eyes, only source of light with her Omnitech, but was unable to figure her out. He could feel her watching him, too, muttering variation of quarian swear words to herself.

 

He tried to get some sleep, but was unable to. His body, still wracked by a combinaison of adrenaline and exhaustion, wouldn't let him. His armor was not made with comfort in mind and it was becoming hard to breathe inside his helmet, adding to his frustration. He finally decided to just concentrate himself on the glowing lights of the quarian's Omnitech, as if he could find the answer about how to end the war if he looked at it enought.

« Are you lusting after me ? »

She said it so flatly that he didn't payed attention to her the first time, answering her with a mecanic and idly grunt. It took him a couple of second before he finally realized what she asked. « What do you mean ? » he responded, not understanding where she was coming from with that sudden question. « I'm asking you if you want me. Simple enough, right ? » she retorted, matter-of-factly. « Listen, I don't want to spend the night running encryption protocol and suit diagnosis over and over like we didn't just cheated death. I'm running low on tranquilizer and I need something to take my mind off our probable death. I'm asking you again, one last time : do you want me to take me, bosh'tet ? »

She took him by complete surprise. He couldn't find any smart answer to her sudden question. Trying to find his words, he fumbled a « Yeah, sure, why not. I mean... Yes. Probably, I wouldn't mind, I'd sure like to. » A beat... « Yes. »

She turned her Omnitech off and rose up. He was still focused on her glowing eyes, their gaze locked into each other as she approached him. She lowered herself on him, putting her thigh on each side off his hips, and rested her three-digit hands on his shoulder. « Take off your helmet. » she asked. He obliged, and with a grunt, let his helmet fall on the side. Wincing, he tried to massage his sore neck while looking directly in the glowing white eyes facing him, now the only visible light in the pitch black room. « Now what ? You're a quarian, don't you need a special clean room to get out of that suit ? Don't you mind if I'm human ? » he asked, putting his hand on the quarian's thight carefully as if they were made of burning embers. She squinted her eyes in a mocking expression « Fucking isn't just about putting a dick inside a wet hole, bosh'tet. Do you think quarians mate only after a grand courtship dance where our males show how colorful their belts are ? After we seal ourselves in a secret room once in a full garden flowering like some kind of sacred ritual ? We have needs, and we have suits to take care of them. »

Her body was tensing up. She looked suddenly disturbed and nervous. Her eyes became softer and pleading. « Listen, I don't care if you're human, you could be a vorcha for all I care. I just... I just need someone. Touch someone. Feel someone. Have someone. Someone alive, who breathes and swear and sweat just like any other. I just don't want to be alone in this. Let me... Let me take care of you, and let my suit take care of me. » she said. With her hips now slowly gyrating and pushing down on him, he was hard pressed to stop her. With a little confusion, they fumbled around ceramic plates and belts before finally letting the quarian slip a hand inside his pants. She let out a satisfied hum as she lighted up her Omnitech, and shuddered when she launched a protocol that seemingly sent shivers down her spine.

For his part, he let his guts dictate his movement. He couldn't reach her true skin, but he could still let his hands roam up and down her body as if she was naked. Snaking his gloved hands under the fabric of her quarian shawl, he squeezed, pushed up and down her shapely behind through the leathery envirosuit. She let out an encouraging sight, mumbling to herself so softly that his translator couldn't pick what she said. He himself tensed up when he could feel a firm hand taking hold of his hardening manhood. Soon, she added her other hand to her aggressive ministrations. He answered in kind by putting more strenght to his caress, as if he could mold and shape her body as if she was made of dough. He didn't knew if she could feel his hands through the suit, though he didn't cared much as her own where busy going up and down faster and faster, squeezing and releasing him tirelessly. Soon, she pushed her entire body against him, crushing her breast against him and grinding her hips aggressively against his pelvis.

For a while, the Reaper war was but a long lost memory. All that existed was the subtle but firm movement of her hands and hips against him. Up and down, squeeze and release, and sometime her finger that plays around even lower, as if she as weighting him. Her thights were tensing up, and she soon let her helmet rest on his forehead. His own hands where scratching and caressing the envirosuit, roaming the leathery surface in search of a nub, crease or reef to hold on, push and tease. His hands finally weaved in and out of her lower shawl, gripping her bottom thightly and guiding the quarian through the gyration of her hips.

His eyes locked with her hungry and lurid gaze. He could hear her husky and heavy breathing even through her mask. Up and down, squeeze and release, their busy hands hidden away under layers of cloth and armor. For a couple more minute they kept accelerating until the quarian closed her eyes and tensed up, shuddering from head to toe, thightening the grip of her thights against him.

« Rrr... »

« I... »

« Rrrrrrrr... »

« Listen, I'm... »

« Rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr... »

« I... Ah.... »

« Rrr... What ? »

« I... I'm done. »

« Yeah ? Good, good... I think I'm... done too. »

She blinked, her eyes betraying both exhaustion and afterglow. He felt his own body growing weaker and weaker, its frustration and adrenaline waning as he softened between her hands. Without taking her hands out his pants, she let her weight push down against his chest, resting her heads against his shoulder. « Listen... Let's just stay here. Let's stay like this for a while. »

 

She was so close to him that he could feel her breathing in and out, even through his own armor and her envirosuit. Contented and exhausted, he put his hand against her lower back, pushing her against him a little more closer. « Yeah... Sure... Let's stay like this. »

 

He closed his eyes and let himself drift off to sleep, lulled by the sound of her breathing and cradled by the quarian soft body.

 


	2. Arms

**Part II : Arms**

 

He winced, rotating his arm and stretching out his sore muscles. Muted cracking sound accompanied him as his entire body seemed to protest against the slightest movement. The last mission almost turned to complete disaster, leaving him and the quarian engineer the only survivors of their team. They roamed the pitch-black network of tunnels and mines for almost two days before their distress signal got picked up by a patrol. During their last hour of careful retreat towards the Alliance HQ, he saw her fell down, shaking and shivering, as exhaustion and starvation took their dire toll on her. When they arrived in the networked caverns that made up the resistance headquarter in eastern China, a group of medics rushed to them, taking the comatose quarian engineer to a special xenobiology wing deeper inside the caves. As for him, the snowed under medical staff settled for specialized nutricious paste, a cocktail of drugs he couldn't remember the name and « 70 hour of rest, minimum. »

It was now two days since he parted ways with the quarian. He couldn't stand doing nothing as Reaper forces were still out there, on the surface, reducing his homeworld to ash and turning its people into unnatural abominations. He busied himself by whatever means necessary : logistics, weapon maintenance, trap making and a lot of calibrations. From time to time his mind wandered back in the silent tunnels. To the quarian engineer and her glowing white eyes shining through the darkness. To her lithe body undulating on the small of his stomach. To her dextrous gloved hands and her husky breaths. He wondered how she was feeling. If she managed to let herself off the hook, given the state she was in when the medics took her.

He groaned as he picked up another crate of thermal clips. Doctors would tell him to stop wearing out his already tired body, but that was the only way he managed to cope. The little rocky alcove they were using as storage was damp and dark, illuminated by a chain of small dull blue lights on the ground and the faint glowing red lock on each crates. Sounds of hurrying footstep coming from the winding tunnel behind him.

He heard the red drape that served as a makeshift separator flutter and someone stopping behind him. With a deep grunt, he put the heavy crate down and turned around. Two glowing milky white eyes looked at him, shining brightly in the dark. He recognized the strange disapproving look behind her purple mask, as if she was observing some kind of primitive alien lifeform. « Here you are. » she stated, her voice raspier than usual. « I've been looking for you all over the base since they released me. »

She approached him as he sat down on the steel crate, wiping the sweat from his brow. She lighted up her Omnitool, making a warm orange glow spread through the cave walls. « Listen, I received an encrypted message through Quarian channels. The Fleet is mobilizing and leaving Rannoch ; Turians are retreating from Palaven and bringing the Krogans with them. Quarian comms tell that the human admiral Hack-it is gathering everyone in preparation of... something big. Bigger than anything. » He heard it from Alliance coms too. Every resistance cell on Earth heard it. Everyone knew it was about what was happening in London, about what happened with the Citadel. « End of the line, as we say. » he answered flatly.

They looked at each other in a silence broken by his heavy breaths and the buzzing of her Omnitech. There was no use discussing it. Both of them knew what that kind of order meant. They'll just have to brace themselves and hope for the best when the final hour come for them. One could very easily feel how tense the athmosphere was down there.

She sighted, suddenly looking very tired and morose. He shuffled to the side of the crate and she went to sit lazily next to him. Shutting down her Omnitool, she crossed her arms against her stomach and looked into the empty space. They stayed like this for a while, sitting next to each other in silence, not really looking at anything. Leaning forward, he turned his head, hoping to catch her gaze. « Are you okay ? » he asked.

She snickered, her glowing white eyes looking at him mockingly « Ate some stale purple dextro-paste with a side dish of anti-biotics and a drink of saline solution to compensate blood loss. Some humans down the mess hall also told me that you can see the end of the world on the horizon if you climb up the hill. Heard that the ship where I was born got blown to bits after Rannoch after falling for a Cerberus trap. All in all, except for a light fever and a sore throat, I feel fine. »

« Sorry for- »

« Don't be. » she interrupted curtly.

Before the silence between them became awkward, she gave him the faintest hint of a warm smile and a coy glance. « At least I got my homeworld back. Ain't that a grand thing ? » He chuckled, almost half-heartedly.

She tensed up and turned her head away, looking very serious and agitated. He saw her hands fidgeting nervously. « Listen, back in the tunnels... When we stopped to catch our breath. »

« Yeah ? »

« It was nice, wasn't it ? »

« I won't complain. »

« Bosh'tet. » she muttered. Letting out a deep sigh, she continued « Do you want to do it again ? »

This time, his laugh was genuine. He saw her frown angrily behind her visor, vexed or confused by his reaction. Smiling warmly and putting his hand on her tight. He met her accusatory gaze. « If it's with you, I wouldn't mind. »

« Don't play around. Yes or no ? » she responded, still offended.

« Yes. »

« Good. »

She visibly relaxed and her expression softened. Slidding her three-digit hand to wrap over his own, she cleared her throat and continued in a soft and sultry tone. « Do you want to do it now ? »

She sneered at his surprised face. « Listen, there is no way I'll manage to smuggle you into the clean room down at the xenolabs, but I won't face certain death and the end of the world without letting someone get inside this suit. I... trust you enough for that ».

She closed her eyes and mused. « If it's the last peaceful moment I'll ever know... I want to know what it's like to... Feel someone. Have something warm and soft on my skin... Something alive and conscious... No more suit application. No more nerve stimulation. I want warmth and gentleness and... Something real. »

She leaned against him, holding on his shoulder as she approached her mask towards his face. They were so close that mist began clouding over her purple visor. « Last time, I took care of you. » she said, as she began moving throwing her thighs around to straddle him. « Let me show you how to take care of me. »

In the darkness of the little rocky alcove, the quarian girl embraced him, forcefully pushing his head against her bosom as she lowered her hips to meet his own. She took her left arm between her hands and undid the straps on his wrists and forearm. Soon enought, she ripped the glove off and aggressively rolled up his sleeve. Meticulously, she started to study his naked skin between her rubbery hands. From the tip of her longest finger she followed the trail of an old scar than ran across the back of his hand. She felt the veins and the lines of his palm, as if she could feel them through her envirosuit. Smiling, he let her manipulate his left arm as he used the other to hold her hips against his.

Carefully, she guided his hand towards her right side, making it slip under the colorful quarian shawl. With a surprising display of flexibility, she twisted her remaining arm and shoulder, and a dull jingling sound rang as she unfasten belts that compressed her breast. Her chest heaved as she took a deep breath, letting a couple of belt buckle tumble behind her back. He could feel a small hint of an opening under her colored cloth, a zipper or pocket of somekind that was hidden away previously.

« There's a small gap against my side. Can you feel it ? » she asked.

He noded, trying to concentrate on the cold rubbery texture of her suit, trying instinctively to snake his way in the discreet snag. She streched and pressed herself against him, trying to give him some leeway. Her hand disappeared under the shawl on her other side, pushing, tugging and pulling at unseen belts and fasteners. He heard a muted whiz as her suit began to depressurize, makng it crumple slightly.

Finally, he managed to slide himself in the invisible opening, making a small surprised breath escape her lips. It was a very thigh fit, and he could barely move his finger. There was something feeling like latex or plastic, something flexible but firm under the though first layer of her suit. It wasn't a particular enjoyable texture, but its warmth was an auspicious omen. He could feel her muscle move and tense up for each twist and each breath she made.

« Yes, I know, I know...  » she muttered to herself. « I know there's a foreign body detected... Stupid VI.  »

She wasn't looking confortable and kept twisting her stomach left to right to try to give him more room for meneuvre. He groaned as his wrist bent too much in an unnatural direction and squeezed harshly her thigh with his free hand. They were both grunting and swearing in their respective language. Struggling against each other, they were looking more like fighting and less like embracing. After a couple of minute where his hand felt less and less constricted by the snugness of her pressurized suit, she leaned forward against him, pushing her breast and hips against him and coiling her arms over his shoulder and neck. She rested her armored head against his own, making her shawl cover his eye and mouth. She stopped struggling and twisting, relaxing her muscles and sighing heavely. He though she was about to ask him to stop.

« Listen, somewhere along my spine you will feel something thin and metallic. Follow it downward, and just above my hipbone you'll find two clamps...  » she said. Giving up on trying to control their strange dance, she was seemingly entrusting him to be able to follow her instructions on how to strip herself. From the tip of his finger he explored her back, slowly snaking his way along her ribcage towards her backbone. There was a calming and hypnotic rythm in feeling and listening to her breathe in and out. Fnally he found a cold and hard line along the relief of her back and followed it downwards, sending her shivering, making her hug him a little more thighly. He found two little hard nubs along the way, just along the small of her back. Following her direction, he turned and pushed, tugged and pulled.

He could hear beeps and alerts going wild inside her helmet. She was tensing up, curling her toes and strenghtening her grip around him. « Hurry up, Bosh'tet. Don't let me get cold. » she muttered, frustrated. He could feel the air escaping from the underlayer of her suit, making it easier to move and reducing the crushing vice that enfolded his finger. With the utmost care, he folded his finger up and dug in the widening opening between the two clamps.

He carressed something soft and smooth.

Something warm and damp.

She moaned lovingly. Making her approval known through a long and purring « Good...  »

He smiled and closed his eyes, letting the ridge of her spine be his guide through this uncharted world. Taking a deep breath, he tightened his grip around her waist as he let his unseen hand slowly coiling upward... then slowly scratching downward. Each movement earning a new breathless moan, a new pleasured sigh from her.

It was becoming easier and easier to move by the minute. The depressurization of the outer layer and elasticity of the under layer alievating the crushing pressure the envirosuit was dealing on his hand. He concentrated on feeling the unique and unknown texture of her skin, mapping out from the tip of his finger the hard ridges of her dorsal bones and the soft and smooth depression of her lower back than turned into a firm and taut muscle when he reached her hipbone. He let his hand roam lower still, making her groan and fidget as he squeezed and released at a plump hump. He could feel the well-worked muscle rippling under her tender and damp skin, a striking contrast with the cold and coarse metallic parts of her helmet that were digging harshly into his face.

Her breath became ragged and hollow, frustrated groans mixing with pleasured sighs. She started to stir restlessly in his embrace, bending his stuck arm painfully. He grunted loudly as his thumb got jammed against some kind of unseen undersuit strap or joint.

« Stop moving ! » he barked, and she did.

She leaned backwards, stretching her back so that she could come across his gaze. Her glowing white eyes shone behind her purple mask. Her expression was fear, frustration and desperation all mixed into a pitiable cocktail, burning with carnal need. Quarian sigils and orange warnings flashed aggressively across her visor, obscuring her face behind a sea of words he couldn't decipher.

« Listen, it's going too slow. It's not enought... I want... I need more. » she said, pleadingly. The quarian girl took a deep breath and closed her eyes, trying to concentrate as even he could hear her VI howling alerts behind her mask. « I want to feel you closer to... I... I need you inside me, bosh'tet. » she finally stammered, distraught. « Let me get into a better position. Follow my lead, and pick... up... the- »

She suddenly sneezed.

He let out a worried chuckle as she began swearing and cursing under her breath. Slowly, they began to move around, carefully twisting and stretching. Rotating her hips and stomach, she guided his arm through unseen nooks and recesses across her side, letting him glide along her taut flank, deforming the stretchy undersuit as he went on. Through a difficult process of trial and error, she came to rest on her hips against his stomach, curled up on herself. He himself had to lay down the crate as to not bend his elbow the wrong way. She offered her hand to support his neck and soon enough she managed to let his hand come across her belly in an almost-not-uncomfortable position. His legs hanged down the heavy crate, with one of her own locking itself under his thigh, the other thighly coiled and resting on the steely crate. Stretching his neck, he could see his arm sticking out against her side, clearly visible under the crumpled enviro-suit. She was laying on him on a S-like pattern, her head wrenched backward just so that she could let him watch for her glowing eyes. Soflty, she wapped her free hand over his hidden one, silently entrusting herself to him again.

He resumed exploring the unexplored expenses of that soft skin he caressed so intimately without even knowing its color. Her warm belly was finely toned, a familiar feeling of subtle and strong muscles working and rippling under the taut skin. His thumb grazed aganst a small and pronounced hollow as he reached her navel. She frowned and squinted her accusing eyes, pushing his hand ever downard. He felt a fleshy firm lump around the lowest part of her abdomen before feeling his hand disappear under her crotch. She squirmed in a breathless cry, clenching her fingers around his neck and covered hand, and he knew he finally reach it.

Down there, from the tip of his finger, he caressed something softer and smoother.

Something warmer and damper.

She moaned lovingly again. Closing her eyes while taking deep breaths as to savor the moment, letting a long and purring « Right here.. » escape her quivering lips. When she opened them again to look at him, he saw lust and need. Pushing her hips against him and gently scratching the nape of his neck, she coaxed him into carrying on his delicate ministrations. Slowly at first, he barely skimmed over the wet split, teasing and toying with the sensitive flesh, getting accustomed to its unique warmth and texture. Fiercely, she began to push his hand against her, guiding him into an increased and stronger tempo.

He folded away his middle finger while to-ing and fro-ing alongside her. Entering her deep folds and making her writhe around in quiet delight. Up and down, gently and carefully, he explored the most intimate part of her body, concentrating on the sweet warmth and the intoxicating feeling of the ultimate conquest. Lulled into a steady rythm through the undulations of her hips and her ragged breathing.

« Rrr... »

« Feeling good ? »

« Rrrrrr... der.. »

« What ? »

« Rrrrrrrrrr... Harder... »

His forefinger followed, making it more difficult to move around in her increasing thighness. As he started digging into her more forcefully, she lifted her thigh to let him reach ever deeper. Her strangely shaped leg dangling in the air, bobbing and weaving as she accompanied the movement of his hand with her hips own ebb and flow. She asked, and he answered. He could feel her body tensing up, muscles tightening and stiffening all over her body. Crossing her gaze, he saw her milky white eyes shone through swelling tears of want, begging for release. His working hand felt like burning, engulfed in a wet kiln.

Gritting his teeth and grunting loudly, as if he could stave off the coming cramp that would slow him down from sheer force of will alone. He closed his eyes and curled up his hand painfully, making his ring finger join the fray. She gasped, whining soflty in a low and guttural lament, and stopped moving while shivering from head to toe.

« Kee-.... »

He kept steadfastly sawing in and out, inside and against herself until he felt her tightening suddenly, wedging him. His head came crashing down the steely crate as she let go and squirmed, her raised leg shaking like a leaf in a strong wind. For an unfathomable moment, it was as if there was nothing else in the galaxy but them. No cramping muscles, no twisting shoulder, no heavy steel crate, no dim weapon storage, no underground resistance, no Reapers, no war.

Only peace and the delightful writhing of a climaxing alien girl.

« ...-lah.  »

She relaxed, breathless, as limp as a ragdoll in his arms, and shuddered lightly. The cramp and terrible pain spreading throughout his sore wrist and tired elbow. Clenching his teeth and holdng his breath, he endured as he left her bask in her own afterglow. They stayed embraced for minutes, silently enjoying each others warmth, her hand pressed against his through the crinckled envirosuit. Fear and adrenaline winding down into a content feeling of exhaustion.

She suddenly sneezed, letting out a quarian swear before a coughting fit shook her violently. « Are you okay ? » he asked.

« I'll be fine as long as you manage to find your way out. » her raspy voiced answered.

« I... ah... uh... I think I'm stuck. »

« What ? »

« I can't move my arm around. »

« Bosh'tet, what do you mean ? »

« My arm is wedged ! »

Nervously, furiously, they began to untangle in uncomfortable and painful confusion. After a couple of minute of twists and streches in the dark, followed by a lots of swearing and accidental blows, he managed to free his arm from the vice of her envirosuit. Still laying down, she let her weight push against his stomach, taking both his hands in hers and letting them rest on her abdomen in a loving embrace.

She sounded exhausted, and he himself was more tired than he cared to admit, but they stayed in silence laying on top of each other, enjoying the silent calm after the storm. He inhaled deeply, taking in the muted scent of her colorful shawl, and counted how many time her breast heaved up and down as she breathed.

« Listen... I think you'll have to carry me back to the Xenolabs. » she said, absent-mindedly. « Suit protocol will begin pumping me full of drugs and anesthethic to fight possible contamination. That and automated repressurization. I won't be able to walk back there on my own. »

« It's alright » he answered, letting the silence return, before asking tentatively. « Will we see each other again ? »

Her gloved hand came resting on his cheek, soflty scruffing his jaw with the tip of her thumb. « Don't get yourself killed, bosh'tet. » she said, wrenching her neck to meet his gaze, her glowing eyes half-closed but her smug expression intact. « Don't get yourself killed. I fully intend to get you back for this. I... I'll find a way to make this work. I'll find a way... for us. Don't get yourself killed... »

He closed his eyes, her mumbling voice dying down as apprehension was rearing its dire head. Their shared moment of peace but a drop of rain in the storm of war.

 

« Don't get yourself killed. »

  
Like a haunting voice that would follow him to the end of the world.

 

 


	3. Rebuilding

**Part III : Rebuilding**

 

He groaned and massaged his sore shoulder as he walked through the corridor, wringing his neck from left to right in the faint hope of making that dull and familiar pain disappear once and for all. His gait was stiff, his body aching after too many hours of intense physical work around the numerous reconstruction site. His Alliance Uniform, faded and torn in some places, was covered in a fine layer of dust, sand and concrete particles. Another day of shoveling rubbles and ruins out of the destroyed and crumbling buildings was coming to an end, and he could finally get some time to rest. He lifted the heavy red cloth that marked the entrance to his quarters and moved inside the dimly lit fast-concrete box he was calling a home. Advancing absent-mindedly toward the couch, his foot collided with his old broken helmet, sending it flinging under the table. With a swear and a frustrated sigh he retrieved it, steadying it up on the metal table before letting himself fall down the firm cushions of the black couch. It was not a particular comfortable place to lay down considering how tough the box spring was, but that old synsthetic-leather sofa was still the only place he could regularly find true rest. Something about its sturdiness, compared to overplayed softness of his "real" bed, that he found comfortable and... comforting. Old habits of hiding behind weapon crates and ventilation power-plug to get two hours of sleep before another dangerous mission made him unable to fully enjoy how soft and comfy a real bed was.

He wrapped his arm around his head, letting his elbow cover his closed eyes, and inhaled deeply. It was a strange feeling, really, to find himself not able to thrive off what peace brought. Peace had its way of making him feel restless by letting his mind wander and question itself. He grunted and shuffled on the couch, concentrating on trying to sleep, but he couldn't effectively stop the memories from playing in his mind again.

Two or three months passed since what transpired in London. He still vividly remembered the night that marked the definitive end to the Reaper War. Uninvinted recollections and old memories of that fateful night began replaying through his mind and closed eyes. Burning attack ships, like fireballs blazing through the red sky, hurtling towards the ground. Destroyers' searing beams scorching through the ruins, leaving dust and shadows behind. A pungeant smell of death, ignited fuel, overheated weapons, cold metal and frantic hopes. Dozens of voices barking and screaming through comms before beeing silenced forever. He remembered he felt like gliding in a thunderstorm, not even registering who and how many died already as he simply pointed his gun and pushed on the trigger over and over. Until the barrel of his rifle melted down and he had to draw his pistol. Until the Mako blew up just near him, shrapnels tearing through his armor and nearly ripping his shoulder off. Through pain, rage and adrenaline he kept fighting and shooting, combat drugs pumping into his blodstream until he felt sick. A far-away memory of a voice at the back of his mind, haunting and unrelenting, that he hanged on fiercely. « Don't get yourself killed. »

An orange wave swept through the battlefield. Warm, like a hot wind blowing on a summer day. On the horizon, motionless Reapers ship began to creak and whine before tumbling down, unmoving and quiet. Silence swathing over the trenches before the soldiers, from all races, let out a shared and thunderous wail. A mad and primal roar that echoed through the ruins, trenches and foxholes, that hurt their throat and shook their body down to the core. It was the howl of those who were still standing after the war. It was victory made sound.

But the newfound and sudden peace brought its own batch of problems. It always was the surviving ones' job to count and bury the dead ones. To dig them out of building ruins and old trenches. To identify them by the shape of their boots or the weird bends of their alien bones. To clear out the rubble and ruins that doted the burned down landscape. To quell the rising squabbles about food, about water, about living quarters and about stranded alien ships supposingly stealing food, stealing water and stealing living quarters. Having to face certain death and galaxy wide extermination had a way of bringing people together, of making people trust each other. Now that war was over, people were left with a strange cocktail of hope, confusion, joy, frustration, exhaustion, loneliness and – sometimes - fury. If victory over the Reaper war was a sweet and intoxicating feeling, survival in its aftermath was the raw and dizzying hangover.

As for his part, he couldn't quell the subdued and faraway feeling of cold anger and frustration that gnawed at his heart. Fighting the Reaper was a simple way of life : either you fight and survive or you die trying. He survived a galaxy-wide hurricane that destroyed all in its path. He stood among the ruins and the dead with no more clear foe to blame and fight against. A vengeance that seemed unfulfilling, that left him feeling out of place and alone. He was a soldier with nothing to fight against anymore, growing frustrated by the day at his own inability to fit the new peaceful time. He fought for the Alliance and his own survival, but sometimes he wondered if there's wasn't something else worth fighting **for**.

Something came to his mind, however.

A pair of bright glowing white eyes behind a purple-blue mask, and a particular smug expression. An envirosuit he managed so sneak in, and that comfortable warmth that was coming from under it. A husky and low voice ordering – or begging ? – him to not get killed. Two or three months passed since what transpired in that dark weapon storage back in China. He stil vividly remembered her, iddly wondering if he would see her again.

A loud buzzing noise startled him and drew him out of his half-asleep morose musings. He sat bolt upright with a jolt, rubbing harshly against his tired eyes. Realizing he forgot to turn off his Omnitech before going to sleep again, he silently sweared and opened up the holo display. The familiar face of the quartermaster appeared, looking as overworked as ever.

« You've got a guest, soldier. » the old man sternly said. « Been calling for you by name, Alliance ID number and your previous commanding officer name. »

« Who is looking for me ? » he asked, still groggy.

« Someone who is claiming that you both served in the chinese resistance cell. Quarian marine, engineer corp, ex-Extraterrestrial Earth Relief Force. »

«  Quarian ? »

« Doesn't have Alliance clearance but I've directed her to your quarters nonetheless. She's en route. » concluded the quartermaster before nodding and curtly cutting the transmission.

He straightened himself, earning him a new pang of pain as his sore shoulder didn't appreciate the sudden movement. Hapharzadly, he moved the diverse weapon parts, small electronic equipement and holo-diary spread around the metal table in front of the couch. While trying to give a semblance of order to his possessions and to keep his mind from jumping to conclusion about his guest, his elbow bumbed into the old helmet, making it fall and roll around the dimly lit room. With a new swear and the silent promise to not never let himself keep mementos again, he went to pick the helmet up and opened the metal blinds, letting the warm orange light of the setting sun invade the room. He heard a shuffling behind his back, the red drape that served as a makeshift door fluttering as someone was entering his room. He turned around and saw her. Two glowing white eyes shining brightly behind a purple-blue mask. She had the same peculiar disapproving look, as if she was observing some kind of primitive alien lifeform. She looked a little different from two months ago : her colorful shawl was faded and torn in some places and her right arm was covered in brand-new smooth metal plating from shoulder to phalanx. She was carrying some kind of rucksack made with the same exotic cloth than her shawl. « Found you. » she simply stated, her husky voice feeling immediately familiar and welcoming.

He smiled, feeling strangely relaxed and relieved by the sight of the Quarian engineer. He threw nonchalantely the helmet towards the couch and approached her. She let go of her bag and opened her arms. He wrapped his arms around her waist and she coiled her own around his neck, pressing her body tighthly against his. He closed his eyes and rested his head against her shawl and sighed. They stayed embraced in silence for a long moment. « I'm glad to see you again. » she finally said.

« I'm glad too. It's good to see you again. »

« What happened with the Hammer team ? Your messages weren't very clear. »

« I was part of the second wave of reinforcement. We covered the backline of Admiral Anderson's team. » he answered, knowing full well that most of Hammer never made it out of London. « I got transfered to a field hospital after the battle. »

She stayed silent, thightening her hug.

« You didn't made it easy for me to track you down. » she suddenly accused.

« I know. »

She released her grip and leaned backward, looking straight into his eyes. « I'm glad to see you again. » she muttered again. Her expression was of relief and genuine affection, but there was a dull sadness about her voice and look. Something distant and dissonant. She squinted her eyes, looking fierce and resolute again. « Do you want to sit down ? » she said matter-of-factly, and he knew that she didn't even expected him to answer.

He chuckled, and she followed him to the couch. He let himself fall carelessly on one side of the soda, and the Quarian curled up laying down on the other, leaving her rucksack on the armrest. He sighed and asked her what she was doing since the end of the war, and she retorted with a playful « You first. »

« Reconstruction and keeping order, I guess. » he answered, undecided « Ever since I got release from the hospital the Alliance have been transferring me from ruin-clearing teams to security detail all around Europe and Asia. Never stayed two weeks in the same place. »

« Sounds demanding. »

« It's... different. » he briefly thought that it sounded a lot like what life was like during the resistance. He frowned, wondering why something was feeling so “off” then, why was he feeling so out of place, even when he was simply following orders ?

« At least you're rebuilding your homeworld, you're reconstructing. » she said, looking puzzled at his blasé expression. « Even if your world fell, you fought to take it back and ermerged victorious. All in the same lifetime. You've earned that peace. Enjoy it. »

« Yeah. You're right. » he answered, almost half-heartily. « What about you ? What have you been up to ?. »

She tensed up, avoiding his eyes and playing nervously with her fingers. « Nothing much. » she said, evasive. He frowned again as such a display of anxiousness wasn't like her. Something was wrong.

« What happened to your arm ? » he asked, pointing to the shiny metal plates covering her willowy limb. She stretched her arm in front off her, letting the setting sun reflect on the armor's muted sheen.

« That ? Standard procedure for when a Quarian's suit needs some reinforcement around a damaged part. Suit protocols and omni-gel paste are usually enough to repair puncture holes and slash wound, but sometimes you have to seal off and protect the vulnerable part of your suit. »

«How did it happen ? »

« Close-quarter explosion that ripped part of my suit with shrapnels. Could have been way worse, but I'm still taking antibiotics and herbal medicine to fight possible infection. »

« Same thing happened to me, kind of. »

She gave him such an imperious and inquisitorial look that he felt compeled to show her what he meant. Undoing the belt and straps of his Alliance uniform, he opened the front of his top and shuffled around to free his sore left shoulder, pulling on the cloth until she could saw it clearly. He saw her white eyes widen with troubled surprise behind her mask, and she scooted towards him over the couch. Upon reaching him, she carefully leaned down toward his shoulder. He saw her looking at his scar with a perplexed and incriminating expression, frowning disapprovingly at it as if she found a venomous spider crawling on him. Using her gloved left hand as support against his stomach, she followed the snaking trail of his scar with the tip of her right fingers. Her armored thumb caressed the cruel relief of his old injury, making him shiver slightly from the gentle and cold touch. Medi-gel and London's medics helped make the wound heal fast and nicely, but it was damaging enough to leave a faded and sprawling pattern of fresh criss-crossing scar tissue all over his shoulder, just over his armpit soft part. An ugly looking hollow marked the place where he was impaled by one of the bigger piece of flying debris, and the rest of his side and upper arm was peppered with smaller off-color signs of cut and bruises.

She carefully examined him, exploring his shoulder through slow, methodic and tender ministrations. It was a relaxing and soothing experience, a gentle caress over his numb and ugly scar, and it dawned on him that he deeply missed her. He remember the trust, the kinship and the skinship they shared. His expression softened, moved by her seemingly genuine worry and curiosity about him. He moved to put his hand against her arched back to embrace her, but she abruptly froze and tensed up when he touched her. She leaned backward, escaping his hands and straightening herself up on her knees. She looked down on him, her glowing white eyes betraying a sudden longing, sadness or distress. He glowered at her, half-annoyed, half-alarmed by her disconcerting behavior. He knew that something was wrong, that she was hiding something.

« Listen, I have... » she began and prematurely stopped before evading his gaze. « I've brought you something. »

She twisted herself and grabbed something in her bag. Sitting on her knees on the couch, she solemnly handed him a small package, wrapped tightly in a colorful patterned quarian cloth. He hesitantly took her offering and let the package rest against his lap. It felt heavy under the supple and soft cloth. « What is it ? » he questionned, his heart beating wildly in his chest. « A gift for you. » she said, looking straight into his eyes with a distant and cold expression that did not match her words. « Something to remember me by. »

He looked at the package suddenly dumbfounded, as the meaning of her behavior, of this gift and of her very presence slowly came together in his mind. Something that he should have seen coming from the beginning. Something that he should have known. Something that he shoud have realized sooner. Cursed be his naivety.

« You're going back to Rannoch, ain't you ? » he rhetoricaly asked.

« Yes. » she stated in a whisper.

« When ? »

« Turian transports are ferrying quarian marines back to the Flotilla. The fleet is regrouping around Saturn for repairs, refuelling, scavenging, finding our lost ships and mobilizing in preparation for our journey back to Rannoch. I don't know exactly when I'll be leaving Earth, but I wanted to make sure to find you before that. At least... To say goodbye.» Finally, her glowing white eyes met his own. Her shoulder slumped down, making her look dishartened and defeated. « Listen, I want you to know that it was an honor to have known you and that I... That I am glad to see you one last time. »

He tensed up, suddenly having a lump in his throat and as a wave of contradictory thoughts and emotions crashed down on him. He was surprised he felt so frustrated and irked by the perspective of never seeing her again, of letting her go once and for all. Her departure was inevitable in indsight, but he wasn't able to quell his affection for the Quarian girl, his longing for the trust, the kinship and the skinship they shared. He wanted to fight this fate, to seek an alternative that wouldn't leave him alone and out of place in the peace that he fought so hard to secure. The possibility of never seeing her again frightened him more than he could admit it. He scowled at her and swallowed hard. She was intently looking at him with pleading eyes, expecting him to answer, to say something. « You want me to come with you ? » he said, surprising himself by the choice of words.

« I... What ? » she answered, confused. « What do you mean ? »

« I'm asking you if you want me to come with you to Rannoch. Simple enough, right ? »

« You... Bosh'tet. Listen, it's not... I can't ask you something like. I... But it's... It's not so- »

« Better to live the rest of my life with remorses than with regrets over never asking you this. » he curtly interrupted. « I'll be spending the rest of my days rebuilding something, somewhere, it can be Earth, Rannoch or Heshtok for all I care, but I don't want to be alone anymore. I know you trusted me enough to watch your back when hell broke loose over Hong-Kong comms relay, I know you trusted me enough to let me sneak under your suit after that. You tracked me down over half a planet you don't know to say goodbye. I'm asking you again, do you want me to come with you to Rannoch ? »

Her glowing white eyes were wide and wild behind her purple mask. She looked confused and panicked, as if she never expected him to say any of that. It was the first time he caught her at a total loss. It was the first time she looked like she was truly afraid of something. She was fidgeting nervously, shifting her weight from thight to thight and iddly playing with her finger. She squinted her eyes in a half-guilty, half-incriminating look and answered. « Listen, it's not that simple. It will take years before reaching Rannoch. If you go with the Flotilla, I don't know if you'll be able to see your homeworld ever again in this lifetime. You would need to wear a sealed armor full-time, you would need to live in cramped ship quarters, you would need to have your own food and your own medical staff and your own clean room and... I can't ask you to leave your own homeworld behind. I can't ask you to live like that. I can't ask you to... »

He frowned, resisting the desire to argue with her. He knew that he asked something unreasonable, but he wanted an answer. He wanted to be fixed, once and for all.

« Yes or no ? » he sentenced her.

She froze and tensed up. Glowering. Her eyes showed anger, confusion and... hope.

« Yes. » she finally said, in a cracking whisper. « Yes, I'd like that. I want that... But- »

« Then I'll come with you and we'll find a way. Simple as day. » he answered flatly. Leaning forward, he nonchalantely threw her gift on the table, bumping into and sending his old busted helmet rolling haphazardly through the room. He wrapped his hand around her waist, snaking his arm under her shawl, and tightly embraced her. She answered in kind, slipping her hands inside his opened Alliance uniform, making his skin shiver at the contact of the cold metal and tepid rubbery texture of her envirosuit. Resting her neck against his shoulder, he could feel her shaking and tensing up, her breath ragged and irregular as she sounded like choking back sobs and pained sigh. She harshly pressed her breast against his naked chest, thightening the vice of her arms as if she tried to seemingly crush him inside her. Shutting his eyes, he answered and squeezed her harder against him still, nestling his head against her shawl. Adrenaline and fear slowly waning out and letting a comfortable and snug feeling of warmth and contentment engulf them. She sighed heavely and pushed against him, throwing him off balance and making him fall on his back. He groaned as his head banged painfully against both the side of her helmet and a part of the armrest, some sharp part of her armored envirosuit digging into his skin.

She craned her neck backward, as to look at him in the eyes. Her need was transparent, even if it was mixed with a small hint of fear and apprehension. Glowing white eyes shining brightly behind a purple mask. He felt her right hand sneaking its way out of their embrace. She brought it under her helmet, unseen fingers working around invisible clamps and bracket until a high-pitched whizz was heard. Her purple visor shimmered briefly and she carefully, eerily took the faceplate off. She blinked hard, unacustomed to natural light, before smiling mockingly down on him, as if she was affectionately observing some kind of primitive life form. He thought to himself that her skin was of a nice color. He chuckled and saw her close her eyes, wringing her neck slightly on the side and forward.

He closed his eyes and inhaled, letting the feel of her lips pressing tightly against his own overwhelm him and scramble both mind and thoughts. Slightly salty. Firm and strong.

 

Warm.

**End.**

 

 


End file.
